and a usefully busy final week for us all - I'm glad not to have to be picking a weekly winner. Inspired by a random bookmark I offer knuckle hospitable lead as words for next week, but regret I'll be busy/away for a week or so and input from me likely to be minimal.
New words have been scheduled for Friday 6th
Usual
rules: 100 words maximum (excluding title) of flash fiction or poetry using all
of the three words above in the genres of horror, fantasy, science fiction or
noir. Serialised fiction is, as always, welcome. All variants and uses of the
words and stems are fine.
The Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 285
ReplyDeleteSarg rapped the cowering ‘Dillo’s head with her paw-knuckle, ‘I’m putting you in charge of this rabble.’ She smacked his head again, ‘this aint hospitality or change of ‘art. It means you’re the leader responsible fer their safety an’, if they mess up, you answer for it. Got that?’
‘Yes, Sarg, I got it.’
‘Get on wiv that trench, then we got a fair bit of tunnel t’ dig so your lot kin ‘elp wiv that too.’
She looked at a nearby soldier, ‘Relieve the poor beggar in tunnel, he’s all but dun in.’
The soldier saluted and scuttled off.
I do hope you eventually find an illustrator for this - and a voice for the audiobook
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 286
ReplyDeleteArmi and Atlas surveyed the undergrowth, knuckle-bumped, grinned, and adjusted their kit.
‘Dunno what you two are so cheerful about,’ observed Trub from beneath a pile of leaf litter, ‘you’re getting careless. I ‘heard yuh coming fer I seen yuh. Yuh better not’ ave left a feckin’ trail leadin’ right to us or yer welcome back’s gonna be less than hospitable .It’s about time you ol’ farts left the sneakin’ about to us young ‘uns.'
Armi coughed, grinned again, and raised an eyebrow, 'we spotted yuh, young ‘un.’
Trub looked up to see Atlas’s hammer poised over her head.
Brilliant!!
DeleteTHE BATTLE… AGAIN
ReplyDeleteIn the early morning of September 17, I stood among tombstones of the Confederate cemetery near Antietam Creek, site of the bloodiest battle of the Civil War. This was the 103rd. anniversary of that terrible conflict, and despite this inhospitable environ, I, as always, am honored to be here.
As I had for many years, I watched misty gray filaments seep slowly from the gravesites and coalesce into scores of rebel soldiers.
My captain’s voice sounded behind me. “The battle begins anew, son. Time to knuckle down and lead your men again.”
I smartly saluted then marched toward my squad.
Wonderfully evoked eeriness.
DeleteThresholds new [36]
ReplyDeleteFrom the whitening of his knuckles, I guessed Acker read Gulch’s incipient infatuation with Raven. No doubt he used to coming first in his brother’s eyes; unused to his own taking on an involuntary emerald hue. I decided now the time to play the usual female lead and offer hospitality while Raven, fully alert to all possibilities, simultaneously debated likely outcomes should he turn on his charm for Gulch or make it obvious he’d noted the potential strength of Acker’s antagonism.
Gulch beat us to it.
‘No doubt you’re hungry. We have food to share.’
Quite the interesting game being played here, Sandra.
ReplyDelete